Boyd gave him a look and they stopped moving for a moment. No sound from outside; they were safe. Boyd tilted his head and flared a look in Fitz’s direction, letting him know that had to be their last mistake. Fitz nodded sheepishly, then put his jumper down and moved over to the cupboard. The boys sat close and whispered.
‘What’s this?’ Fitz asked, pointing at the tool belt.
‘Tools, for you to crack the safe.’
‘What do you think I’m going to do with those? Build a shed? You don’t literally “crack” a safe, you know. I’m not going to just shove a chisel in there, smash it with hammer and hey presto! We’re in!’ Fitz shook his head, his face screwed up in confusion.
‘I don’t know, Fitz - I’m not the expert. I didn’t exactly have a lot of time.’
‘Well, if this is all you have, we’re in trouble.’
‘Why? What do you need?’
Fitz looked at the safe. It was small and fairly new, but it had an old-fashioned numbered dial on the front. ‘This is called a dial; I need to turn it and listen to what’s happening inside. Which means I need a stethoscope.’
‘A stethoscope? You mean, like a doctor uses?’
‘Exactly like a doctor uses. Did you bring one?’
‘Oh no, sorry,’ Boyd replied, tapping his pockets. ‘It’s in my other trousers with my scalpel and my X-ray machine.’
‘I see your sarcasm is starting to develop nicely.’
‘Great, so we’re stuffed then?’
Fitz thought for a moment and looked around. ‘No, maybe not. Give me that drink bottle,’ he pointed to a plastic bottle in the bin under the desk. Boyd passed it to him, and Fitz took off the lid. ‘Give me your bag. Then see if you can find me some scissors, and some glue,’ he said, his brain beginning to whirr.
He sat back on the floor, opened Boyd’s bag, and rummaged around. He took out some headphones and put them down next to the bottle lid. Boyd added scissors to the pile of supplies. The bag was one of those hiking rucksacks that had a plastic tube running from a water container inside. You put the end of the plastic tube in your mouth and drank the water without ever taking the bag off.
Fitz took the scissors and held them over the material of the bag. ‘Before I do this, do you mind if I rip this tube out of your bag and cut your headphones up?’
Boyd exhaled sharply and raised his eyebrows. ‘Why not? Go ahead. I only saved for two months for that bag.’
‘Excellent. Find me the glue.’
Boyd went back to the drawers and found some superglue. He quietly returned to Fitz and found that he’d already removed the drinks tube and cut the hearing buds from the headphones.
He was working fast. He cut a section of the tubing off the end and using the scissors he made a small hole a third of the way down the longer piece of tubing. He poked the smaller section of the tube into the hole and then glued it, making a ‘Y’ shape. Next, he drilled a hole in the bottle cap then attached it to the bottom of the ‘Y’ and poked the headphone buds into the two top sections and fixed them all with the glue.
Boyd watched it all come together and then realised he was looking at a homemade stethoscope. ‘That’s amazing. Will it work?’
‘Probably not but it’s all we’ve got,’ Fitz replied, shuffling into position in front of the safe.
Boyd leant in, watching as Fitz popped the headphones in and placed the bottle cap on the door of the safe, next to the dial. ‘You do know what you’re doing, right?’
‘No,’ Fitz said, his face in pretend confusion. ‘I thought you brought me along for my charming personality.’ He smiled. ‘Yes, I know what I’m doing.’ Fitz pointed to the dial. ‘Behind here are wheels, which are known as “tumblers”; this type of safe has three wheels because it has a three-number combination. You with me so far?’
Boyd nodded unconvincingly. ‘Yeah, of course.’
‘Good,’ Fitz said, genuinely pleased. ‘I turn the dial and I listen carefully to a small rod that runs along these wheels. I’m listening for when this rod falls into a notch. I use a graph to map out the dial and…’
Boyd shook his head. ‘No, you’ve lost me,’ he said. ‘I’ll just get you a pad and pencil and keep quiet.’
‘Perfect.’
Fitz began to slowly turn the dial, his homemade stethoscope pressed up against the front of the safe. Sometimes he turned the dial quickly, then slowed it down, and Boyd could hear the little clicks and clacks of the wheels turning inside the mechanism.
Boyd watched in awe as Fitz became completely lost in his work, muttering to himself and scribbling dots on a messy graph he had drawn on the pad. Boyd stood up and carefully stretched his legs. He didn’t want to rush Fitz, he needed him to stay calm and concentrate, but pretty soon they’d need to be back in that tunnel.
Fitz let out a long breath. ‘Okay, I think I’ve got it,’ he whispered. He removed the headphones and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve.
‘Nice one!’ Boyd hissed excitedly, crouching down to the safe.
‘Hang on, it’s not a perfect science. Sometimes these numbers can be one or two out the first time.’
Boyd didn’t speak; he let Fitz turn the dial. This time, he moved it quickly and deliberately, only slowing down when he clicked it onto three specific numbers. Nothing. Fitz paused and pursed his lips.
‘What is it?’ Boyd asked.
‘Yep, I’m out by a number or two, I think. Hang on.’ Fitz studied the graph and started spinning the dial again. He settled on two numbers and seemed happy. Then he took a deep breath. ‘Cross your fingers,’ he said as he turned the dial again, slowing suddenly, rolling it number by number until there was an audible ‘CLUNK!’ ‘Crikey!’ he whispered and stopped dead.
Both boys stifled a nervous laugh and had to look away from each other. Neither moved nor said a word, waiting to see if there was any sign of life from outside the office. After just over a minute, no key had hit the lock. Fitz looked back at the safe, slowly turned the handle on the front and pulled the door open.
‘Right, let me get in there,’ Boyd said.
Fitz stood up and straightened his legs for the first time in what felt like hours, grimacing as his joints creaked back to life. He picked up the homemade stethoscope, nodded and smiled at his handiwork before slipping it into the backpack. Meanwhile, Boyd leafed through the papers in the safe and quickly found the set of maths tests. He removed one of the tests, took out his phone and began snapping a picture of each page; within two minutes, he had everything he needed. He put the test back with the others, returned them to the safe, shut the door and closed the cupboard. Fitz put the glue, the pad and the scissors back, they put their jumpers back on and had one final look around.
Boyd turned to Fitz. ‘Right, let’s get out of here.’ He moved the guitar to the right of the hatch, opened it up and climbed down into the darkness. He took off his shoe coverings and threw them into the tunnel.
‘Wait,’ Fitz replied. ‘I found the dial set to zero.’
‘What?’
‘The dial, on the safe – when someone sets their dial to zero, it’s not by accident, he probably does it every time.’ Fitz went back around the front of the cupboard, leaving Boyd half in and half out of the tunnel. ‘So, I just need to check that I put it back to zero, or he’ll know someone’s been in here.’
Fitz grabbed the handles on the cupboard and threw them open. Not considering the fact that the guitar was now right next to the cupboard, he stared in dread as the door collided with the bottom of the instrument and created a thundering, tuneless din. The boys froze in disbelief as the guitar continued to ring out like an alarm. Boyd snapped out of it first, reached out and clamped his hand around the strings, killing the noise, his eyes wide in panic. The handle on the office door started to turn.
Doz was almost at level 9 of a game called Slayer Quest but he kept getting killed at the same point. He managed to get to the waterfall and find the dragon eggs, but every time he searched
under the nest for the Key of Kalbrack, he woke up Saydax, the Dragon Queen. She burst through from behind the waterfall and before he could get five direct hits with his fungus bombs to put her to sleep, she toasted him. He was just Googling a cheat so he could pass Level 8 when there was a massive ‘CLANG’ from inside the Prov’s office.
‘What the hell?’ Doz was on his feet and had the key in the lock within seconds. He turned the handle, opened the door, stopped and smiled at the scene in front of him. Then he realised he still had his phone in his hand. So, he lifted it up and snapped two pictures before turning on his heels and walking away. ‘Man, you’re finished, Tork!’ Doz called out. ‘You’re so gonna get expelled for this one, mate!’
He casually trotted away from the office, heading down the corridor towards the covered walkway and the new part of the school to where all the parents, teachers and school officials were gathered to celebrate the wonderful centre of learning that was Oakmead Secondary School. Doswell would have to break up that little party and show them the picture of Fitzgerald Tork, his hands on the safe in the Prov’s office; his face twisted in complete horror. Some days, he really loved being a prefect.
‘Who was that?’ Boyd shouted to Fitz, who was still in total shock, looking at the empty doorway.
‘Fitz!’ Boyd pulled himself out of the tunnel and walked around to the side of The Prov’s desk.
‘It was Doz. He um… I think…’
‘Right, let’s get that door shut and lock it from inside. Then we get back down the tunnel and by the time he’s got the Prov back here, they’ll be no sign of us.’
‘No, he… um…’
‘Fitz, listen! He didn’t even see me and the Prov isn’t going to believe Tork The Dork broke in here – and how could you have? Doz was outside the whole time. Let him tell everyone, he’ll just look like a total nutjob! Earth to Fitz,’ Boyd clicked his fingers in front of Fitz’s face. ‘We have to move, now!’
‘He took a picture of me, on his phone.’ Fitz’s face was as pale as the white walls of the office.
Boyd reacted quickly, pulling himself out of the tunnel as he spoke at a machine-gun pace. ‘Forget the tunnel; put the hatch down, put the guitar back and get to the music room. Put everything back as best you can.’ He ran to the door.
‘What are you going to do?’
Boyd stopped and turned. ‘I’m going to get that phone and make sure he stays quiet.’
Boyd was away down the corridor in no more than three strides. He sprinted around the last bend before the covered walkway and saw Doz strolling down the long, glass walkway like he hadn’t got a care in the world. Then he turned his head as he heard Boyd’s footsteps. Doz’s face dropped, instinct took over and he bolted. Like any bully, his natural reaction was to run from any kind of real trouble – especially when there was no one around to play brave for.
The new part of the school was built around something called an Atrium, which was a tall building with a huge floorspace in the middle that was open all the way up to a glass roof. This is where they held Parents’ Evening, with stands displaying different school projects and even a stage for the school choir to perform a recital. If Boyd didn’t catch Doz, he would run into the Atrium and show everyone the picture of Fitz at the safe and his chances of competing in the county championships would be all over. But for some reason that Boyd couldn’t fathom, Doz didn’t head towards the Atrium. Once he made it through the walkway, he turned right and headed up the stairs. What the hell was he doing?
Boyd clattered through the double doors at the end of the walkway and immediately heard Doz’s shoes smacking on the stairs above him. ‘I want that phone, Jason!’
No reply.
Boyd took the stairs two at a time. As he threw himself up each level, he listened carefully just in case Doz left the stairwell to hide himself in one of the classrooms. Boyd reached the second floor but he could still hear Doz’s feet pounding above him. The third floor was the last; above that there were no corridors to escape down, just the roof. Boyd’s heart went up into his mouth as he recalled a small slice of a conversation he’d heard a while ago. Strakes had bragged about how he had been up on the roof during lunchtime and how he had the combination to the keypad for the door; Doz must be heading for the roof! Was he mad? No, Boyd understood now. If Doz got through the door at the top of the stairs, Boyd would never be able to get to him without the code. He couldn’t let that happen.
Boyd quickly realised that he couldn’t hear any footsteps anymore – was he too late? He dug deep and lunged up the final flight of stairs. As he came around the corner, the door was in sight but Doz was already through it, already moving across the flat roof towards the glass top of the Atrium. Boyd wondered why Doz hadn’t just pulled the door closed behind him but as he ran he noticed it was one of those security doors that are made to close slowly to ensure no one got trapped outside; which meant Boyd still had a glimmer of hope. He hauled himself up onto the landing as the door was more than halfway shut, the afternoon sky slowly disappearing along with his last chance of catching Doz.
Boyd took one step and realised he wasn’t going to make it, not like this. So, he used that step to launch himself. He hit the ground on his left-hand side and skidded on his hip across the smooth surface, his right leg extended out in front of him like a footballer in a sliding tackle. Just as the last shaft of light from outside was slowly being shut out, Boyd’s right foot hit the door jamb and the heavy door stopped with a thud on his ankle. ‘Aaaahh!’ he let out a cry of pain. But he couldn’t let it slow him down.
He grabbed the door handle, pulled himself up and went out onto the roof. The section he was on was flat and housed six big, white boxes that contained huge, whirring fans; the air conditioning for the new part of the school. There was a ledge running around the edge of this section of the roof and Doz was already at the far end, standing right at the edge. He looked at Boyd and smiled so wide, his eyes were almost lost in the creases of his face.
Doz put one foot on the ledge and jumped, disappearing from view. Boyd felt his breath catch. Had he just jumped off the roof? No, of course not – Boyd could see the glass top of the Atrium was just beyond the ledge. Doz had jumped down onto the surface that surrounded the Atrium roof.
Boyd followed and jumped without breaking his stride. As he landed, he tucked into a forward roll and then immediately came up into a run. Doz seemed to know the layout of the roof well, whereas Boyd was up here for the first time and was wary of getting too close to the edge or to the glass on the other side of him. Doz unexpectedly ducked left and moved towards the glass of the Atrium roof, which went up into pointed ridge, like the roof on Boyd’s house. There was a walkway, like a ladder, that went over the top of the ridge and down the other side. Doz must know a way to escape from there, because he was crawling up the ladder, moving up the side of the huge, transparent roof.
Boyd didn’t think about it. He was too angry to stop, he just stepped onto the first rung of the ladder and followed Doz out onto the glass. He tried to force away any thoughts of how stupid this was, but he kept hearing his dad’s voice in his head.
‘Situations get worse around you because you run on anger,’ he would tell Boyd when they boxed together. ‘You can’t control anything if you let anger take over – be smart.’
He’d heard the same thing from his Taekwondo instructor when he’d lost the final of the sparring competition last year because he had let his opponent get into his head and wind him up. But even as he thought these things, even as he heard those voices telling him to be reasonable, to take a breath and calm down, he knew he couldn’t do it. He was angry and there was no way he was going to let Doz get away with this.
Boyd looked down and saw the events of Parents’ Evening playing out beneath him. Large groups of adults and students, all silently gathered. His dad was down there somewhere, but he tried to put that out of his mind for now. He reached the halfway point, in the middle of one side of the glass roo
f and felt a knot in his stomach; he was so far from the ground, suspended in mid-air. Out of nowhere he heard a buzzing sound and then the noise of the people below him broke up through the air. Then, a scream.
‘Oh no!’ Doz shouted. ‘Help me, please!’
Boyd looked up along the ridge of the roof: the top window was opening right under Doz and he was losing his footing. The Atrium windows were opened and closed at a set time every day by a motor; the whirring sound kept going as the windows slid open and Doz’s legs hung through the gap as he struggled to hold onto a slippery panel of glass. Boyd stayed calm, looked down at his hands and feet, and just concentrated on moving fast, staying on the ladder and making it to Doz before he lost his grip. He ignored the other boy’s screams; he ignored the people below them who suddenly began to shout and panic as they looked up to see a student dangling inside the big, glass roof.
‘Quickly! I can’t hold on!’ Doz had managed to grab onto the steel bar that ran along the inside of the glass.
‘Hang on!’ Boyd shouted.
‘I can’t!’
Boyd reached him just as Doz let go. He grabbed the boy’s left forearm and a handful of the sleeve of his school jumper. In Doz’s other hand was the phone. Boyd was now the only thing stopping him from falling over 50 feet to the floor below.
Doz was now completely inside the glass roof, his legs swinging as he scrabbled around in a terrified panic. Boyd was lying down on the outside, with his head, shoulders and arms inside. The sound was almost deafening as the people on the ground reacted to the unbelievable scene playing out over their heads.
Doz looked up at Boyd, pleading with his eyes. ‘Don’t let me go, please.’
‘I wasn’t planning on it,’ Boyd replied, seemingly cool and calm but inside, his heart was beating out of his chest.
Without warning, Doz’s left hand lost its grip on Boyd’s arm and he slid downwards. Boyd caught him at the wrist.
‘Oh god!’ Doz shouted. ‘I can’t do it. Please. I can’t hold on!’
‘I need to pull you up,’ Boyd said, pleading. ‘I need both your hands.’
Operation Hurricane: The Evan Boyd Adventures #1 Page 5
